The Grim & The Dead

by Amanda M. Lee

  Grim & The Dead

  A Grimlock Family Short Book Five

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  1

  One

  Several months ago

  “Incoming.”

  My sister Aisling — aka, the bane of my existence — brushed past me as I ambled through the foyer of my family home. She looked to be in a hurry, which was unlike her because laziness was listed as the number one attribute on her resume, and she wasn’t slowing down for anybody.

  “Watch out,” I groused when her shoulder bumped against mine. In her haste to get ahead of me, she cut too close when zipping toward my father’s office.

  Instead of offering an apology, she merely arched an eyebrow at my expecting look. “What makes you think I wasn’t watching where I was heading?”

  My sister would argue with the pope over whether he was Catholic if given the opportunity. She was never easy (like ... never), and she was used to getting her own way. My father spoiled her to the point I was certain no man would ever take her on. That turned out not to be true — she was not only dating a cop who didn’t want to arrest her, but was on the verge of living with him — but that didn’t mean the sentiment didn’t hold.

  “Why are you in such a hurry anyway?” I asked, working overtime to tamp down my agitation. I didn’t consider myself patient under the best of circumstances, but Aisling always brought out the worst in me.

  Always.

  “We’re having a work meeting,” Aisling reminded me, her black hair tucked back in a loose bun so that the white streaks she purposely added to drive my father crazy stood out more than usual.

  “Oh, I never would’ve noticed,” I drawled, rolling my eyes. “Is that why we’re all here in the middle of the afternoon on Friday when we’d all rather be somewhere else? I’m shocked at the notion.”

  Aisling’s lavender eyes flashed, although she didn’t go full-on “annoying sister.” That could’ve been a calculated move — which is what I suspected — but it also could’ve been something else. I was never entirely sure with her, which is one of the reasons we irritated one another more than any other family combination. When it comes to working and playing together, family ties can become tenuous. My tie with Aisling had been tenuous since we were children, though, so I was used to the familiar feeling creeping over me.

  “Do you know what your problem is, Braden?” Aisling challenged.

  I pursed my lips, amused. She only adopted that tone when she really wanted to irritate me. As one of the middle children in a family of five, I was used to siblings wanting to knock me off my game. Unfortunately for them, I enjoyed making my own rules when it came time to play.

  That’s right. I, Braden Grimlock, am essentially only happy when driving those around me nuts. Okay, I’m happy other times, but the pure joy I get when seeing my father’s face go red ... or my sister’s hands turn into fists as she debates how to hold me off ... is better than just about anything else when it comes to my enjoyment factor.

  “I’m fairly certain my problem is you,” I shot back. “You’re always my problem.”

  I planned to be calmer, more rational, with Aisling going forward. That was a promise I made to myself ... thanks to a threat from my father, of course. Not only did he spoil my sister because she was the only girl, he also served as her protector. Aisling had so many protectors (father, brother, boyfriend, best friend), she was used to winning. As a Grimlock, I hated losing, so it meant we were always at odds over something. You can’t have a competition without a winner and loser. The older I got, the more I hated losing to Aisling. She knew it, and that’s why she always pushed me harder than anybody else.

  Yes, we’re a weird family. We’re fine with it, though. No, really.

  “And I think my problem is you,” Aisling fired back. I had no idea why she was so agitated today — she idles at “I’ll smack you if you look at me funny” most days — but I was looking forward to seeing exactly how many times I could make her head spin around before she completely melted down.

  Before you judge me, you should know that’s an older brother’s job. If I don’t make her think about murdering me at least once a day I’m not doing my job to the best of my ability.

  I was ready to push Aisling further — I always found it amusing when she melted down during meetings because Dad prided himself on running a tight ship (even though that’s the exact opposite of our Grimlock cruise liner motto) — but I didn’t get a chance to poke her because my father slid behind us and planted firm hands on the backs of our necks.

  “And I think my problem is both of you.”

  Cormack Grimlock is an imposing man. He’s tall — two inches taller than me, and I’m not exactly struggling in the height department — and he has broad shoulders. He’s also raised five kids and has no problem unleashing his inner bully when necessary to force his offspring to shut up.

  “It’s not my fault,” Aisling instantly started whining. “Braden picked a fight with me. I was being good.”

  “I don’t believe you’ve ever been able to use those words without risking lightning striking you down,” Dad chided. “You’re never my well-behaved child.”

  As much as I wanted to laugh — and I truly enjoyed it when Dad messed with Aisling — I couldn’t stop myself from snorting at Dad’s statement. “You don’t have any well-behaved children.”

  “Not in this room,” Dad agreed, nudging me toward his office with his hip. “I do have one child who behaves himself more than the rest.”

  “He’s talking about Cillian,” Aisling offered helpfully, referring to our bookish brother. He was the calm one in our brood, although that wasn’t saying much.

  “I know he’s talking about Cillian,” I sneered, shaking my head. “Do you really think I didn’t know he was talking about Cillian?”

  “I think the things you don’t know could fill the Grimlock Manor basement and force out the snakes.”

  “Stop talking about the snakes,” Dad ordered, wagging a finger. “There aren’t any snakes in the basement. How many times must I tell you that before you actually listen to me?”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. When we were kids, our eldest brother Redmond told Aisling snakes lived in the basement to keep her out of the dark and dank space. It was the one place in the house she refused to visit, which meant it was our only refuge from her tattling ways.

  “He’s lying to you, Ais,” I said, grinning at the way she narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen snakes down there. He doesn’t want you to be frightened because he’s a walking doormat where you’re concerned, but there are definitely snakes in the basement.”

  Even though I told myself I saw it coming, I couldn’t duck fast enough to miss my father’s cuff.

  “Knock that off,” Dad ordered, his tone no-nonsense. “You know your sister freaks out at the thought of snakes. I cannot deal with another screamfest because one of you threw a sock at her and she mistook it for a serpent.”

  “I think there’s a reason she thinks everything is a snake,” I offered. “No, seriously. She’s obsessed with snakes. It’s because they’re phallic. You know what it means when someone is obsessed with phallic items, don’t you?”

  Curious, Aisling cocked an eyebrow. “No. What does it mean?”

  Uh-oh. I expected her to sc
reech and tell me to shut up. Apparently she had other plans. Now it was my turn to be messed with. Drat! I should’ve seen that coming. “It ... doesn’t mean anything,” I said hurriedly, risking a look at Dad and finding him glowering. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Aisling was hardly innocent when it came to men. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy pretending from time to time.

  “I’m curious to hear the answer to that question, too,” Dad drawled, his expression unreadable. “You brought it up, so surely you must know.”

  I was caught. All three of us knew it. Aisling took joy in my discomfort, while Dad looked as if he was ready to blow a gasket should I actually answer the question. I decided to make everyone happy — and by that I mean Dad and me — and turn the conversation to something else. “So ... what is this meeting about?”

  “Smooth,” Aisling teased, amused. “The way you changed the subject wasn’t noticeable at all. I don’t think you’re a wuss in the least for not answering.”

  I ignored the dig. “Seriously, you only call meetings when something big is going down. It’s winter. We never have anything big happen during the winter.”

  “Yeah, what is it?” Aisling echoed in true little sister mode. “If it’s something bad, I volunteer the boys to handle it. I’m too delicate to do the heavy lifting on anything dangerous.” She adopted an innocent expression that caused my stomach to turn.

  Dad, of course, fell for it. “You are definitely delicate,” he agreed, grinning. “As for what’s going on, that’s why we’re having the meeting. I would prefer not having to dole out the same information more than once, so you can find out at the same time as your brothers.”

  “That blows,” Aisling complained. “I prefer hearing news before everyone else so I can rub it in.”

  “I never would’ve guessed,” Dad teased. “Now, come on. You’re not incorrect about something big happening. I simply don’t happen to believe it’s what you’re imagining.”

  “WAIT ... WHAT?”

  I furrowed my brow as I ran my father’s big announcement through my head. I honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “He said there’s a reaper’s conference in Las Vegas and that attendance is mandatory for everyone who doesn’t have to work,” Aisling said from her spot on the couch, where she was safely ensconced between our brothers Redmond and Aidan, her big protectors.

  “I heard what he said,” I snapped.

  “Then why did you ask?”

  Because hitting her was out of the question — Dad outlawed that when she hit her tween years and started mouthing off constantly — I considered trying to find something with which to gag her.

  “I don’t understand,” Cillian hedged, shifting in his chair. “We’ve never had a conference before. We’re supposed to fly under the radar. This seems to be the exact opposite of that.”

  “Definitely,” Aisling agreed, bobbing her head. “We’re reapers. I don’t think we should be having a conference to broadcast that.”

  Oh, yeah. I think I forgot to mention we’re grim reapers. No, truly. It’s a real thing and we were born into the gig. The whole family is in the business — except my mother, who died ten years ago before miraculously coming back into our lives a few months ago (long story) — and my father serves as something of a regional chief. As Aisling succinctly puts it, that means he’s the big boss of us on more than one level. None of those levels are ever easy.

  “I brought up those same matters with the front office,” Dad noted. “It didn’t matter. Their minds are made up. We must attend.”

  “Not all of us,” Aisling argued. “Some of us have to stay behind and work.”

  “That’s true.” Dad steepled his fingers as he rested his elbows on his desk. “Two of you will stay behind to handle the workload. That means you’ll be quite busy, but you’ll get double time because of it and extra time off when everyone else gets back.

  “I have no choice but to attend,” he continued. “I tried to get out of it, claimed you needed constant supervision, but they didn’t buy it.”

  He looked so sad at the prospect that I could barely hold back my laugh. “That’s too bad.”

  “It is.” Dad shook his head to dislodge whatever melancholy thoughts were going through his mind. “So, three of you are coming with me and two are staying. I’m not sure how to arrange this so it’s fair. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

  Aisling’s hand shot in the air, causing my eyes to inadvertently roll. It was an automatic response that she ignored.

  “Yes, Aisling,” Dad said perfunctorily.

  “I think I should be one of the two to stay behind.”

  The statement caught me by surprise. “You don’t want to go? It’s like a free vacation on Dad. I would think you’d be all over that.”

  “I happen to be a diligent worker.”

  “Why do you really want to stay?” Dad challenged. Aisling might have been spoiled rotten, but my father wasn’t always an easy mark where she was concerned. Sometimes he could see right through her.

  “Maybe I simply want my brothers to have a good time,” Aisling replied. “I’m the sacrificing sort, always thinking about others instead of myself. That’s the sort of person I am.”

  Redmond, Cillian, Aidan and I snorted in unison, causing Aisling to furrow her brow.

  “It’s totally true,” she argued. “I have a giving spirit ... and I’m giving all of you a vacation in Las Vegas. I think that’s pretty magnanimous of me.”

  “And I think she just doesn’t want to leave Griffin,” Aidan countered. As the youngest boy in the family — and also Aisling’s twin — he had the deepest insight into her. He could read her better than anyone else ... with the possible exception of Jerry, Aisling’s best friend and Aidan’s boyfriend.

  “Oh, that’s what it is,” Redmond smirked as he poked Aisling’s side. “You’re not a giver. You’re simply co-dependent. You don’t want to be away from your boyfriend for a night. That’s a little ridiculous. You know that, right?”

  Aisling ignored the insult. “It doesn’t matter why I want to stay. I simply want to stay. That frees you guys to go.”

  “As annoyed as I am by the reason you want to stay, that does make things easier,” Dad countered. “Does anyone else want to volunteer?”

  I eyed my brothers curiously to see if one of them would jump forward. Cillian and Aidan were the obvious choices to remain behind. Aidan lived with his boyfriend and Cillian’s girlfriend was a regular fixture around Grimlock Manor. They were rarely separated for more than a night when Maya had the night shift.

  When neither man raised a hand to volunteer, I had a sinking feeling. If no one else wanted to remain behind, that meant my father would have to figure out another way to select the sacrificial lamb.

  “I was afraid of this.” Dad rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I guess that means we must draw straws.” He cast a pointed look toward Aisling. “Are you sure you don’t want to go? Once we draw straws, the decision will be made. You’ll be forced to stay behind.”

  “I’m sure.” Aisling didn’t look disappointed in the least to be cut out of the Las Vegas shenanigans. In fact, she almost looked relieved. I didn’t understand that. Her relationship with Griffin was entertaining, even sweet at times, but they were constantly together. I couldn’t imagine a relationship that didn’t involve frequent breaks.

  Of course, that could be one of the reasons I was still single. Not that I’m complaining or anything, mind you.

  “I’ll cut the straws,” Dad said. “Whoever draws the short straw stays behind.”

  “Can I hold the straws?” Aisling asked. “That way I can be part of the fun, too.”

  Dad smiled. “Of course you may hold the straws. That’s a delightful idea.”

  “Great,” I muttered under my breath as I dragged a hand through my hair. “If she’s holding the straws, that means I’m going to lose and be forced to stay behind.”

  “I can’t cheat at holding the stra
ws,” Aisling countered. “It’s impossible.”

  She had a point, yet I could easily imagine her finding a way to cheat. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with, shall we? I want to see if I’m staying or going.”

  “Let’s do it,” Dad agreed. “Once we’re done, everyone needs to pack right away. We’re leaving on the red-eye this evening. That means no dilly-dallying.”

  “And here I was looking forward to dillying and dallying,” Redmond lamented. “You’re such a killjoy, Dad.”

  Instead of laughing, Dad made a face. “I’m hoping you’re the one forced to stay behind.”

  “Me, too.” I winked at Redmond when he scorched me with a dark look. “Now, come on. I think I see Vegas showgirls in my future.”

  “And I think you’re dreaming,” Redmond shot back. “I see Vegas showgirls in my future.”

  Dad rubbed his forehead. “I see a headache in my future.”

  “And life continues as if everything were normal in the Grimlock house,” Aisling teased, breaking out into a huge smile. “All is right with the world.”

  2

  Two

  I lost.

  In hindsight, that was probably for the best. I have a poor relationship with smart decision making while drunk ... and I definitely would’ve gone straight for the free drinks the minute we landed in Vegas.

  I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t so bad, that I would enjoy having the run of Grimlock Manor without loud siblings and a bossy father looking over my shoulder for the next few days. Without my brothers there to bug me, I could do whatever I wanted ... though I had no idea what that would entail.

  Sure, Aisling was running around and would give me grief. I didn’t miss the look on my father’s face when he realized the dangerous duo he was leaving behind. Almost any other combination would’ve been better. Aisling and I fight more than the rest of our siblings combined.